You never know where you’re going to find a party. It happens that on a Tuesday night in Fergus Falls, you can find one.
We were drawn to Fergus Falls initially because Casey had heard tell of its wonders as the rural outpost of Springboard for the Arts, one of the coolest by-artists-for-artists organizations in the country. We thought we’d poke our head in the office and ended up spending all day (and into the wee hours of the morning) with Michele, the super cool director of the Fergus Falls Springboard office.
She gave us an amazingly comprehensive tour of downtown Fergus Falls including the river walk (complete with the falls that are the namesake of the town), public art (to be clear, this is “chalk” art, not “shock” art– it’s really just not that shocking), shook hands with the Mayor who was riding by on his bike trailed by his slew of kids following behind him like little chicks, architectural highlights (including the cool hotel lobby featured below), and even took in a really nice art exhibit about mental health. High quality work for such a small town. Really impressive. The gallery noted twice that they were looking for a new Executive Director. I think they were sizing Casey up. Once again, if I could handle the winters, this would be the kind of place I’d want to stick around.
We let Michele get back to work for a bit, and she sent us up to explore Kirkbride. Crazy huge mental hospital from 1895 that has been empty since it finally closed in 2008. They don’t quite know what to do with it. Seems to have affected everyone in the community. Either you went there or worked there or a family member went there or worked there. All I know is they had a cinderblock house out back that I would not want to go to. Creepy and beautiful all at once. Note the ravens scattering in the pictures.
Later that evening, we met back up with our new friend, Michele, and her husband, Spencer, for a tasty Mexican dinner during which we learned a lot about invasive plants and species (thanks, Spencer). After dinner, we slipped into rehearsal for an experiential play not-so-loosely based on the Flint, Michigan water crisis. We headed on from there to The Spot where we walked in the back door like locals. I asked a guy in the band about his guitar and he said “aw, man, this ain’t nothing. We’re just gonna play some skank rock.” Had never heard of this particular term before.
One drink turned into more than a few when the majority of the cast of the play descended on the place including two phenomenally talented musicians from Minneapolis plus a local singer songwriter dude who ended up being really cool. Guitars got pulled out. Pianos got played. Party hat was passed around (which I’m pretty sure almost everyone wore at some point including the bartender who graciously stayed open well past closing time while we indulged ourselves on our own songs). I know I owe a few of you talented folks an email, but first things first.
We rolled out of Fergus Falls in the morning, but could have stayed much longer. The drives to and from Fergus Falls were lined with bucolic countryside. The town itself was gorgeous. Kinda place if you’d been born there and grown up and then moved away, you’d probably miss more than a little bit.
One of the creepier things that has happened on this trip (right behind accidentally stumbling into the white supremacist themepark in Michigan) was listening to a chilling tale of a little boy that got nabbed in Minnesota that set off one of the largest manhunts in the history of the world and led to the sex offender laws and all (which it turns out are not very good for anybody, the way it was explained to us). At the EXACT moment the podcast folks were saying “This all happened in the sleepy little Minnesota town of St. Joseph’s,” we looked up and saw a sign welcoming us to St. Joseph, population 6,534. Woah.
We’re really heading west in earnest now. Finally leaving Central Time after, oh, only about six weeks on the road.
summartime.blog 